


Not Just a Bad Dream

by Lionheart39



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 07:18:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20004439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lionheart39/pseuds/Lionheart39
Summary: Even the best soilder and the strongest man can be tipped over the edge into the nightmare  of PTSD.





	Not Just a Bad Dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [All the service men and women who face this!](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=All+the+service+men+and+women+who+face+this%21).



> A tribute fic for Tom Watson.  
> A good soldier and an even better man.  
> 1952 to 2019.  
> May all your dreams now be happy and full of love.  
> R.I.P.

Not Just a Bad Dream

Bad dreams, flash backs, disturbing memories. Christ, if they only knew!

These weren't dreams, you didn't wake up from them and think ‘Oh it was just a dream’. You don't start awake look around your room and realise where you are. These dreams don't let you feel your heart beat return to normal after a few minutes. 

Even his worst nightmare as a child could be soothed in minutes by his mother. A warm glass of milk and 15 minutes later young Alistair would be falling back to sleep. These dreams were like being transported back to the worst moments of your life.

Tonight’s had been one of the worst. Even now, nearly two hours later, he was still sat on the floor of his kitchen, in the corner at the side of the cooker. A place where he had taken shelter from the Yeti. Where they couldn't attack him from behind! He was clutching his pistol, even though he knew it wouldn't stop a Yeti. 

His pulse was still racing, his breath hurt his lungs. He could still smell the cordite from the bazooka shells. Even now he could hear the screams of his men and smell their blood. He saw them die, ripped to pieces by the Yeti’s claws. His uniform, ...no his pyjamas were stuck to him with the sweat! His muscles were tense ready to run. This wasn’t just a dream! His whole body was primed for action and his mind knew that the action he had taken had been futile. He knew he was going to see his men die all over again! Like they did every night!

He heard himself shouting out orders, telling the men to retreat. Yelling at them to go back to base. Yelling at them not to follow him, he would only get them killed. 

His breathing was ragged, his heart was thumping, if only it would race itself to death and let him die in this action, but he knew it wouldn't. 

He knew that tomorrow night he would be facing another horror from his past and once again he would be a useless wreck, huddled in a corner. Wishing he had died all those years ago, along with his men!

And in the morning if his colleagues at the school noticed his tired face they would ask if he'd had another bad dream! Little did they know!


End file.
